


Evanesce

by FreeTheSoul



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 14:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15173114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeTheSoul/pseuds/FreeTheSoul
Summary: They meet in a dream.





	Evanesce

**Author's Note:**

> I think I would’ve liked if, in Out of Eden, Lucifer had talked to Lyria instead. They seem to have a stronger bond than he does with Gran/Djeeta.
> 
> If you haven’t read Out of Eden, this isn’t related to it, so don’t worry.

Something is tickling her nose.

Lyria’s eyes slowly slide open, vision blurry as she tries to focus on the lush green in front of her face. She’s not sure what it is, but it smells earthy.

After a while, feeling returns to her limbs, and she pushes herself up off where she’s been lying. Whatever it is feels coarse - when she looks down, eyes still sore from sleeping, she realizes she’s on a patch of grass.

Strange. She doesn’t remember falling asleep outside.

Briefly, Lyria rolls her neck to get rid of the stiffness she acquired from sleeping on the ground, and then she picks her head up to look in front of her.

Before her, beyond a short stretch of more wild grass, is a vast expanse of white nothing, and it is now that Lyria realizes she is in a dream. The white is soft, lapping at the edge of the grass like an ocean’s tide. She wonders, for a brief moment, what might happen if she walked into the nothing - would she drop, or would it stretch infinite? - but decides that is not the reason she was called here.

Lyria turns away from the ebb and flow of the void, and discovers that, behind her, the grass spreads out in a flat field. In it, she searches for why she was summoned.

It doesn’t take her very long to find him. He is not facing her, but even without his wings she can recognize him as he sits still and straight-backed in a weathered white chair. The paint is peeling and chips have splintered off its legs, but she can still sense that it was once beautiful. In an odd way, it reminds her of him.

The grass is soft beneath her bare feet as she pads closer to him, but she refrains from calling out until she has come to his side. She peers her head around to look at his face, discovering that his eyes are closed, and she takes the opportunity to briefly look around herself.

Aside from him and his chair, the only other furnishings in the deep green of the field are an equally weathered round table and a matching chair, set across from him, in pristine condition. Something in her heart tells her that it is waiting for someone different than her to sit in it, but that he never will.

She turns her head back to him, and notes that his eyes are still closed peacefully. She decides to rouse him gently:

“Lucifer?”

Slowly, peacefully, his eyes open. The former beauty of his deep blue gaze is clouded with exhaustion, but something in them seems to spark as he recognizes the person in front of him. Lyria picks her head back up from where she’d had her neck half-bent, the wind blowing her hair playfully. She smiles at him and shuffles her feet, feeling the cool grass go between her toes.

“Ah, Lyria.” The traces of sleep are still heavy in his voice, and Lyria wonders absently if he’s been resting for a long time. He takes a pause before he continues speaking. “I had wondered when someone would make their way here.”

“Good morning, Lucifer!” Her response is cheerful, and Lucifer hums, still drowsy. “But, um… Sorry for asking, but where’s ‘here’?”

He thinks for a moment before he answers. “Between the realms of the living and the dead. I believe the mortals have a similar concept known as ‘purgatory’, although that is not its true name.” Seeing the curiosity shining in her eyes, Lucifer continues his explanation. “I presume I am trapped here due to some essence of my core remaining among the living, and I have used the last of my magic to create something akin to the cocoon you found in Canaan.”

“It was my desire to replicate the garden we loved, but I suppose I no longer have the power to do so. It is a pitiful imitation, but…” He stops speaking, voice uncharacteristically full of emotion. Lyria can only guess who the ‘we’ refers to, and they both go quiet.

“I still think it’s lovely,” Lyria whispers reassuringly. “I can feel… in my heart, how strongly your feelings are rooted here, and that means more than seeing some pretty flowers.”

His expression is thankful as he looks to her, but it soon turns apologetic as he continues. “I truly wish I had the energy left to conjure a more welcoming environment for you, but this is my limit. Eventually, I suppose my remaining strength will wane until all that remains here is myself. Even this body is an illusion of my own making.”

Indeed, Lyria can tell that something about the scene surrounding them seems fragile. The white void feels too close, as if it threatens to soon encroach on them both and swallow Lucifer in its gentle tide.

“I must apologize,” Lucifer starts speaking again, and Lyria’s attention snaps back to him. “I am sure that being pulled to another realm in your sleep must be alarming. It was more my subconscious’ doing than mine, however. I was seeking… a link.”

She frowns slightly, clearly not quite understanding. “A link?”

“Yes.” He pauses, taking a sidelong glance at the white that borders the field. “I cannot draw someone into this cocoon without a prior connection to their soul.”

Lyria clasps her hands together in wonder. “Oh! I didn’t know we had one of those.”

Lucifer turns back to face her, his expression kind and tinged with nostalgia. “Indeed. Ours was borne of the time when I gifted you my feather.”

“Wow,” she gasps, trailing off for a brief moment. “But… Why not Sandalphon? He misses you so much…”

At the mention of his name, Lucifer’s fingers tense briefly as his hands rest in his lap. “I have tried, but I cannot. His core… something will not let me in.” His smile is lonely, as he continues, voice taut. “Perhaps it is for the best. I assume he would be… disappointed, to meet me like this, let alone at all.”

Lyria shakes her head firmly at this. “He wouldn’t! I think… it’s the one thing he really wants.”

Lucifer looks down at his lap, expression hidden by a cloud’s shadow as it passes in front of the sun. His voice comes out a murmur. “Perhaps.”

She pouts. “Not ‘perhaps’! For sure.” Her tone goes from forceful to soft. “He loves you.”

Lucifer does not respond to this. Realizing his hesitation, Lyria changes the subject. “Well, in that case, why did you bring _me_ here?”

“Ah.” He’s somewhat taken aback by the sudden question. “It is a truly selfish request, but it is only one.”

He seems hesitant to explain, but Lyria waits until he has chosen the right words. “I simply wish… for someone to make sure he is kept safe.”

Her eyes widen at the confession, and he continues regretfully. “I am sure that must sound like a truly daunting task, but I do not expect you to do everything for him. I believe that, out of everyone, perhaps he may confide in you the most. Just… please, take care of him.” His voice is strained, on the verge of breaking, and he says nothing more.

Lyria is silent before she nods, and he seems to relax at the reassurance. “Of course I will. We’re similar, him and me, and… I don’t want to see him suffer anymore, either.”

They both fall quiet after this exchange, the heavy air stifling any further conversation. Instead, Lyria decides to sit in the grass beside him and take in the scenery. Lucifer was not lying when he claimed his creation was simple, but neither was Lyria when she insisted it was beautiful - she finds herself particularly taken with the small weeds blooming flowers in the grass, and with Lucifer’s permission she picks one and tucks it behind her ear.

Two sparrows, seemingly oblivious to their presence, alight on the table and flit about each other playfully. After watching the pair settle together, Lyria sneaks a look at Lucifer’s face and catches him smiling faintly to himself.

Eventually, Lyria feels exhaustion creep into her. She yawns and falls back gently into the grass, spreading her arms out and watching the clouds as they drift against the vibrant sky.

“The sky is a lovely shade of blue, don’t you think? It’s so pretty…”

Following her lead, Lucifer tilts his head up to gaze at the same sky she is so captured by. His voice is low when he speaks, too low for her to hear. “I wonder…”

“I wonder what makes it so blue,” Lyria interrupts. “Don’t you?”

He abruptly turns to stare down at her, failing to mask his surprise. It takes him a moment to form his response, voice still barely audible as he looks back to the sky.

“Yes, I suppose I do.”

 

Later, the clutches at sleep tug at Lyria once more as Lucifer’s grip on her consciousness begins to lose its strength. She shuffles closer to him, turning herself around to rest against the leg of his chair. After she stills, Lucifer spends a moment wondering if she’s already begun to fall asleep, but suddenly the quiet of the field is filled once more with the sound of her voice.

“Will I remember meeting you?”

The question is simple, but Lucifer hesitates before deciding to tell the truth. “No.”

Lyria responds with a sad hum. “Maybe one day, you’ll come back, and I won’t have to worry about forgetting.”

This leaves him at a loss, and so he says nothing. Instead, he lowers one of his hands from his lap, placing it on Lyria’s head reassuringly.

“Good night, Lyria,” he whispers.

As she drifts asleep, the presence of Lucifer’s hand faint but warm on her head, she clings to the hope that they can meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope they get to interact again. The time in her fate episode when he laughs still makes my heart melt.
> 
>  
> 
> I find it rude when strangers comment criticism (constructive or not) unprompted, so please don't! I write fics for my own entertainment.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
